


You raised me to walk on stormy seas

by Elyf_Sinfonia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: A PLATONIC relationship, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Crossover, Flashbacks, Gen, Loki was Snape's student, Mentor!Snape - Freeform, Slytherin!Loki, Teacher-Student Relationship, child!loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elyf_Sinfonia/pseuds/Elyf_Sinfonia
Summary: You raised me up so I can stand on mountainsYou raised me up to walk on stormy seasI am strong when I am on your shouldersYou raised me up to more than I can beSeverus Snape receives a visit from his favourite former student, and remembers the lonely child who first walked into his office fifteen years ago.





	You raised me to walk on stormy seas

**Author's Note:**

> Because Loki deserves to have a loving (or as loving as Snape can be) father figure growing up, and because Snape deserves to be the mentor he wished he had when he was a child to guide him down the right path. 
> 
> Or, because I just wanted to write something with both of my poor beloved woobies. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Alan Rickman, may he rest in peace.

The first sign that it was a day like no other was when, five minutes after the bell signalling the start of the second period of the day rang through the corridors of Hogwarts, a profusely-sweating, extremely out of breath Neville Longbottom tumbled into the dimly lit dungeon, and Professor Severus Snape, most feared Potions master in the history of Hogwarts, sneered “Five points from Gryffindor” and directed him to his seat with a curt nod. Most of the class looked up, blinked twice, and stared as Snape returned to his prowling among the cauldrons without another word or second glance. Even Neville himself remained rooted to the spot at the front of the dungeon in slight disbelief. Not only had Snape never taken anything less than ten points from a non-Slytherin student, tardiness was equivalent to casting the Cruciatus curse (probably worse) in his classroom and no late student had ever managed to escape being reduced to a quivering mess by the cutting sting of the Potions master’s latest smoothly sarcastic comment.

The next sign came during lunch hour, when Snape silently took his seat at the staff table on the left of Professor Dumbledore, and poured himself a cup of tea. It was common knowledge that Snape was never seen during lunch hour in the Great Hall. Breakfast and dinner, certainly, but never lunch. Minerva McGonagall raised an eyebrow and politely made no comment, but Dumbledore smiled as he watched Snape stir a spoonful of sugar into the cup. “I assume we will not be seeing you this evening, then, Severus?”

Snape’s eye appeared to twitch. “No, I don’t believe so, Headmaster.” he replied somewhat jerkily. Dumbledore’s perception was truly uncanny at times, but that certainly did not mean that Snape had to divulge every detail of his evening’s plans to him. “I have…an appointment.”

“I thought so.” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “You seem in an uncommonly good mood.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyebrow rose even higher at that observation, although she had to admit the Headmaster certainly had a point. Snape was actually having a cup of tea like anybody else, instead of trailing his sharp gaze along the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, on the lookout for troublemakers.

Snape spared himself the obligation to respond by bringing his cup to his lips.

Dumbledore leaned a fraction of an inch closer to Snape and lowered his voice enough to not let anyone else overhear. “A visit from an old student, particularly a favourite one, certainly does that to a teacher.” Snape made no reply still, which Dumbledore took to mean that however grudgingly, he did agree with him.

 

* * *

 

Evening fell over Hogwarts, and as hundreds of weary students poured into the Great Hall for dinner, the sole figure of a young man made his way across the grounds in long smooth strides. He reached the steps leading up to the castle just as Filch was drawing the huge castle doors close.

“Evening, Mr Filch.” he said smoothly, and the caretaker nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around to face the visitor.

“You!” Filch sputtered, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

“Certainly, last I checked.” came the amused reply as the man made his way up the steps. He drew level with Filch and the caretaker had to crane his neck in order to continue maintaining eye contact with the tall figure. “Well I won’t detain you from your – _important_ – duties. I’ll show myself in. Good evening.” A smirk and a nod, and the man swept past the baffled caretaker.

“How the blast did you even get onto the grounds?” Filch demanded to the man’s back as he disappeared down the hallway.

“Have you truly forgotten the seven wonderful years I spent here as a student and all the things you saw me capable of?”

“But–but–” Filch blustered. He certainly did not doubt the man’s ability – no sane man ever would – but – “You can’t just come in whenever and however you please! It’s against the rules, boy, it’s not allowed–”

“Oh Mr Filch, you _have_ forgotten.” came an exaggerated sigh as the elegant footfalls echoed through the hall. “I’ll just remind you then – I do what I want.”

 

* * *

 

 

Three polite knocks sounded on the door of the Potions master’s office, and this was how Snape knew his visitor had arrived. Nobody, not even Dumbledore, ever provided him the courtesy of knocking politely. Nobody but–

“Enter.”

The door opened, and in stepped the man from the grounds. A tall, lean young man, with sharply angled features and neatly slicked-back raven hair which fell just past his crisp white collar, dressed in finely-tailored robes of black and green. Long fingers pulled loose the green scarf from around his neck, and lips curved upwards in a smile.

“Professor Snape. It is very good to see you again.”

Snape rose from his desk and stepped forward, holding out an outstretched hand which the young man gripped in a firm handshake. A rare, extremely rare in fact, slight smile formed on his face as he greeted his visitor.

“Likewise, Loki.” 

 

* * *

 

**_Fifteen years ago_ **

“ _Or perhaps in Slytherin,_

_You’ll find your true friends._

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends.”_

Severus Snape was no stranger to holding a grudge, but even he had to admit that holding a grudge against what was essentially a thousand-year-old singing wizard’s hat was just slightly on this side of ridiculous. Grudges against that loathsome Potter and his band of obnoxious friends were natural and perfectly acceptable. But a hat? Still, he did not feel completely unjustified in his feelings. One would have thought that after a thousand years, the Hat might have learnt a thing or two about social progression. Long gone were the days when most of the Slytherin students were direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, and had unfortunately inherited most of his radical muggle-hating thoughts and murderous tendencies. One would have thought that after a thousand years, the Hat might have come up with a slightly different way of describing Slytherin House, preferably a way that would not cause yet another new batch of students to be instantly turned against Slytherin, and yet another new batch of eleven-year-old Slytherin children to inevitably spend their first few weeks in Hogwarts confusedly wondering why everyone else in the school seemed to hate them on principle.

The song finally ended and Professor McGonagall began to read from the list of new students.

“Adler, Irene!”

“Slytherin!”

Snape raised his eyebrow. The first student of the year was a Slytherin. The dark-haired girl looked completely unfazed as she made her way to the Slytherin table amidst the usual scattered boos from the Hall each time a Slytherin student was Sorted, mainly from the Gryffindor table. In fact, she even turned to smirk sweetly at a particularly obnoxious group of Gryffindor boys. For some reason this seemed to unnerve them, and they fell silent in record time. Snape had made a sort of habit of observing the reactions of all the newly sorted Slytherin students, since his first year as a professor. It gave him the best gauge, despite it being a first impression, of how much mettle his new batch of students contained.

“Crouch Jr, Bartemius!”

“Ravenclaw!”

Slowly the line of students dwindled as each of the four Houses received a handful of new students.

“Holmes, Sherlock!”

“Ravenclaw!” was the fastest decision made, as the Hat had barely begun to brush the boy’s curly hair.

“Mikaelson, Elijah!”

“Gryffindor!”

“Odinson, Loki!”

“That’s my brother!” came a booming voice from the Gryffindor table, and Snape frowned as he saw Thor Odinson slap his friend Fandral across the back (a common way for the boy to get someone’s attention, Snape had noted over the past two years he had been at Hogwarts for). The boy strongly reminded him of James Potter at times, but while Snape had to admit grudgingly that Potter at least had some brains, Odinson was the very epitome of all brawns and no brains.

Snape noted in some surprise that the eleven-year-old boy making his way to the Sorting Hat at that moment looked nothing at all like the elder Odinson. While Thor was tall, beefy and golden-haired (and with a seemingly eternal smudge of gravy or stain of pumpkin juice on his robes), this boy was small, slight and dark-haired, with neatly pressed robes and not a hair out of place. Carefully the boy gripped the sides of the Sorting Hat, sat himself primly on the stool, and disappeared beneath the Hat’s wide brim.

Several seconds passed (in which Thor whispered rather loudly, “I hope he’s in Gryffindor like me!”). Finally, a single word was shouted to the Hall.

“Slytherin!”

Ignoring the entirely too dramatic (and loud, everything the boy did was loud) groan from Thor, Snape studied the younger Odinson’s expression. The boy was smiling as he lifted the Hat from his head and held the smile even as he laid it respectfully back on the stool, but as he turned to walk towards the Slytherin table his head turned slightly towards the Gryffindor table where his older brother sat. No one else would have noticed, but Snape saw the smile drop by a fraction as the boy bit his lip. His gait faltered for a brief moment as he looked at his brother, before he quickly resumed his walk. As he finally took his seat at the Slytherin table, there was no mistake about it. The smile was gone.

The rest of the Sorting passed quickly, and for the first time Snape neglected to observe the remaining students Sorted into Slytherin. For reasons he was not completely sure of, the silent little boy, Loki Odinson, held his attention for the rest of the time. Perhaps it was because of the subtle change in his expression from when he was Sorted to when he gazed at his brother. Perhaps it was because of how utterly different he seemed to be from Thor, in both appearance and mannerisms. Or perhaps, it was because of how much he reminded Snape of himself as a child. Small, skinny, dark-haired and silent. Saying very little but observing everything around him with a sharp gaze. There was true intelligence in those eyes. And an air of…loneliness.

He spoke very little, Snape noticed, with only an occasional small smile and a few exchanged words with the prefect he was seated next to, Tobias. He ate very little as well, seemingly filling his golden plate with only the bare minimum as he slowly helped himself to the closest platters of food. It was only when pudding was served did he seem to perk up; smiling as he took a large serving of grape pudding. Tobias seemed to notice as well, and as the feast drew to a close he offered the pudding bowl to Loki, who eagerly scraped the leftovers onto his plate. Snape could not help but feel a tinge of pride towards Tobias; however the Hat and the other houses might discriminate against them, there was no doubt about it – Slytherins looked after their own.

It was what he told every batch of new students on their first night, once they were all assembled in the dungeons where the Slytherin dormitory was located. Snape was never one to believe in shielding his students from harsh truths, even if they were only children. But that did not stop him from offering them this one piece of comfort, that other members of their house would always be there for them, even if he only ever said it once a year.

This year, however, circumstances necessitated him saying it once more.

He had been making his way back to his chambers after his nightly rounds through the castle, passing the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory as he always did, when he spotted a small figure curled up on the ground directly before the door, staring at it in deep contemplation. Snape might have a reputation at Hogwarts for being extremely biased towards his students, but it was not always true. Some degree of discipline was necessary, after all, and it was nearly two hours after lights out. His mouth opened and the words “Ten points from Slytherin,” were on the verge of being spoken, but as the boy turned at the sound of his footsteps and he recognized Loki Odinson, something silenced him.

The boy hastily rose to his feet, straightening his robes. “I apologize, Professor.” he said contritely. “I know I am out after hours. I will go back in at once.”

Snape was about to nod and wave the boy away with a hand, but as Loki turned to go the faint light from a nearby torch shone upon his face and Snape saw his tear-streaked cheeks.

“Why were you outside, Mr Odinson?” Snape asked abruptly.

Loki glanced around, slightly nervous. “I was…a little upset. It is of no consequence, Professor.”

Snape studied the boy for a moment, and it occurred to him that he had not seen him at the dormitory earlier when he had spoken to the new batch of students.

“Were you present at my speech before?”

“No, Sir.” Loki replied apologetically. “I had gone to send a letter at the Owlery–” he hesitated for a fraction of a second. “–to – to my mother.”

“It could not wait till morning?”

“It – _could –_ but – I just wanted her to know–” Loki’s voice faltered and broke, his face crumpled and he dissolved in tears before he could say another word.

Not once in his life had Snape ever found himself alone with a crying child (and especially one whose crying had not been caused by himself), and for a brief wild moment he had not the slightest idea how to approach the situation. Then he collected himself and cleared his throat, suppressing the flash of panic in his eyes and returning his face to its usual inscrutable expression.

“Please step this way, Mr Odinson.”

He directed a still-crying Loki down the corridor towards his office. The boy – credit to him – managed to compose himself remarkably well and silenced his sobbing to a faint sniffling, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he obediently followed at Snape’s side. By the time they had reached the office and Snape had directed Loki to sit opposite him at his desk, the tears had stopped flowing and Loki was trying his best to regain his composure and assume a dignified expression. He would have succeeded if not for his red nose and eyes.

“Is there something the matter, Mr Odinson? Or perhaps someone? I assure you bullying is not condoned at Hogwarts, at least as far as I am concerned.” Snape forced away the unwanted memories from long ago, of another crying dark-haired boy and Potter’s gang. “Tell me the name of the perpetrators and they will be summarily dealt with.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Loki said. His voice was still a little shaky and he cleared his throat before starting anew. “No one is bothering me at the moment.” he said, more strongly this time. “It is a slightly different matter than upsets me – but it is not worth your time.”

“Seeing as I have invited you into my office, which I assure you is not something I do on a regular basis with any student, I will be the judge of whether or not your issue is a waste of my time.” Snape said smoothly. “I will not compel you to tell me what troubles you but perhaps you may find it makes you feel better. I am your Head of House and it is my duty to ensure the well-being of my students.”

A small, genuine smile crept onto Loki’s face, and he looked gratefully at Snape with watery eyes. They were a startling shade of emerald green, and suddenly Snape was forcefully reminded of another pair of green eyes, long ago and distant; a bittersweet memory.

“Please do speak freely, Mr Odinson.” Snape said in a gentler tone; a voice which he had scarcely remembered he still possessed. “I assure you everything you say will be in the greatest confidence.”

“I was happy to be Sorted into Slytherin.” Loki blurted out. “I was really happy, despite everything I heard my father and brother say against it. I never believed it was all about Dark Arts and cruel wizards – and my mother assured me–”

“I will add my assurances to those of your mother’s.” Snape said. “There are indeed a large number of Dark wizards who were from Slytherin house, but this does not mean every member of Slytherin grows into one. And even if they did–” a small spot on the inner side of his left forearm tingled involuntarily, “–not all of them are without regrets.”

“Yes.” Loki said eagerly, nodding. “I – I don’t think anyone should be judged in this manner – and have generalizations about their characters and morality made so early in their development as humans. And – and everyone deserves a chance to grow and change and learn from their mistakes.”

For a moment Snape found himself unable to speak. He had brushed shoulders with Death Eaters, members of the Order, professors and headmasters, Ministry officials and barkeepers, and not once had he ever met anyone with as much perception and maturity as the child sitting before him. Not even Dumbledore, for all his years of experience and mistakes, had ever said anything more to the point regarding what Snape had always felt was fundamentally flawed with the Sorting system and how everyone in the wizarding world was taught to perceive it.

“I could not agree more, Mr Odinson.” he said finally. “You show remarkable depth and insight for your age.”

Loki blushed and muttered a soft word of thanks.

“But tell me then, if this is how you feel, what upsets you so much?”

The boy was silent for several moments, and Snape allowed him to be. He knew from personal experience that the more one probed an insecure child for an answer, the further he would withdraw into his shell. A line of logic that startlingly few people seemed to be able to understand.

“I guess I thought it might be different at Hogwarts.” Loki mumbled finally. “I thought that maybe I might finally feel like I belong here. I – I’ve always been very different from my family – my father and my brother and all my brother’s friends. And I’ve heard so much about Slytherin, how the other Houses see them; how the wizarding world sees them – and I just didn’t want to feel like an outsider _again_ , after years of feeling like one in my own family, being ignored and ostracized. Sometimes I think I don’t even really belong anywhere.” he finished helplessly.   

Snape had been leaning back in his chair, thumb slowly running over his lower lip, throughout this little speech. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more – and he was not an easy man to surprise – the boy’s astounding vocabulary for his age, or the feeling of powerful loneliness he had managed to convey in so short a time.

“I won’t lie to you, Mr Odinson.” he said slowly. “I will not tell you that Slytherin House is very much welcome at Hogwarts, that it is viewed just the same as the other Houses. You may, in the coming years, watch as other Houses cheer against you in quidditch matches, overhear students from other Houses groan when they see that they are to share a Potions class with Slytherin, see ignorant first years shrink in fear from you as if you were a Dark wizard. I will not pretend that you will never be seen as an outsider in Hogwarts.”

Loki’s shoulders slumped, and his face fell, as if the last of his hopes had been cruelly snuffed out. The boy must have Spartan composure to not crumple up in tears once more.

“But,” Snape said softly. “This does not mean that you will be an outsider to everyone. It does not mean that you will never belong anywhere. Quite the contrary, in fact.”

Loki looked up, gazing at Snape with an almost desperate look in his eyes, eagerly searching the Potions master’s inscrutable face for any sign of what he might be about to say.

“You are a Slytherin, Loki.” Snape said, and a strange feeling gripped his chest when he saw the way the boy’s eyes lighted up when Snape chose to omit the usual formal way of addressing students. “And the first and most important thing you should know about Slytherins is that we look after our own. No Slytherin is left out, and no Slytherin will ever be left behind. The forces that are against us only serve to drive us closer, and you will find that at every turn and corner of your Hogwarts life, your housemates will always have your back. As will I.”

Severus Snape was a man with too many memories, most of which he never wanted to behold again. A few of which he held dear. And ever since that night, he would never forget the way Loki Odinson’s face shone at those words and the way his eyes welled up with grateful tears, or the way he whispered, “Thank you, Sir”.

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see, I could not resist giving cameo appearances to a couple of other characters from other fandoms during the Sorting Ceremony. XD They won't be making any other appearances, though. 
> 
> To be continued!


End file.
